Another
by Punpun Onodera
Summary: Then everything is silent. My fingers curl tighter around my knife until I can feel the hard metal biting into the palm of my skin. I pry open my eyes.


_A/N: So I had originally written this for Halloween. But as you can see it is past that time. I got really caught up with school work and things in that category. This is realllly short and I didn't really feel like writing an entire plot out for this. No, I will not continue it. I correct my own crap. Sorry if you see some mistakes._

_Anyways… Shall we? _

I focus on the dim light that seems to be swaying not too far above me. My vision is hazy, grainy around the edges. My eyelids flutter, eyelashes brushing faintly against the tops of my eyelids.

It happened again.

I finally pop open my eyes, tempted to shut them again and sigh deeply. I stare at the tiles on the ceiling. Hospitals seemed to have taken a liking to the same kind of ceiling tile. You know the one with the endless amount of dots? That indirectly and discreetly tortures anyone who wakes up regularly in this horrid place? Yeah, those. Maybe it's a trend? My steady stream of thinking seems to distract me from the constant drip of IV and the lull of the machines monitoring my sickly body.

Here we go again.

I turn my head stiffly to the door, peering out the small window as I slide my arms up across the starch white bed sheets. My bones seemingly creak in protest as if I have been in the same position for days. I find that possibility high and I grimace as an ache in my back becomes aware to my senses. I swing my legs over the metal frame of the bed throwing away the sheets and exposing my bare feet to the frigid air. My arms wrap around my torso then stretch towards the ceiling before coming back down.

I straighten my stance as my feet touch the ice-cold ground. I endure the slight stinging sensation, finding it oddly comforting in this wretched hospital. I slowly turn my neck to the side, relishing the satisfying popping sounds of my bones as I stretch completely.

I glance around the room searching for a medical cabinet. A small grin slowly spreads across my face as a conveniently placed cabinet that surely contains some sort gauze and tape falls in my vision. I expertly disarm the cardiac monitor before

peeling the annoying gel like stickers off of my chest. I turn to IV pole and sneer at it before hastily dragging it with me across the room to the medical cabinet. The contents of the bag swish teasingly as it trails behind me. After gathering the necessary materials I easily remove the IV wincing slightly in the process.

I've been through this countless times.

Facing death till I could practicality taste its intoxicating spicy flavor then suddenly waking up and crashing back into reality. Then I pick myself and brush it off like it's just a minor problem.

I can't risk staying in one place to long. I've spent too much time here due to convalesce, and I have a sick feeling it's going to bite me in the ass if I don't move soon. I tape the small strip of gauze over my vein neatly and search around the room for my personal belongings, seemingly aware that I'm practically naked under this piece of flimsy cloth they dare call a hospital gown. I zero in on the next cabinet in my peripherals and shuffle in front of it to fling it open. My clothes are there, neatly folded, my leather jacket hung up on a blue hanger. Along my black leather Converse that were untied and placed on a small shelf above my messenger bag that lied next to my clothes. I silently thank whoever was kind enough to do this small deed and praise them for their respect to a stranger's belongings. I dress quickly and let out a small sound of approval as I feel the familiar brush of leather against of my skin. My moment of bliss is short lived when I glance at my watch.

I had been in here for 9 days.

My eyes widen as I register each number over and over again, trying convince myself that my sight was playing a nasty trick on me.

Then I'm rushing, breathing hard putting a heavy strain on my weak lungs, slipping on my socks and shoes and slinging my bag over my shoulder. My shove my hand into my back pocket and curl my fingers around the hard metal object that seems to keep me sane. I bring the object level to my eyes and flip it open to reveal a sleek black JB Outman with a skeleton handle, the blade its self slightly curved, dark, and dangerously pointed. My harsh panting slows as my eyes examine the blade.

Then everything stops.

I hear a quiet snicker and smug distorted voice.

"If you think that's gonna protect you from anything you've got a sick sense humor"

My breath hitches and my muscles tense. My mouth goes slack and my eyes squeeze shut. I tighten my grip on the knife. I will myself not to whimper pitifully but a small sound escapes through my mouth. I hear a small noise of disgust.

"You piss yourself yet?" he lets out a malicious cackle. He practically spits out his words. "Aren't you supposed to be the courageous and mighty guy?"

I hear the echoing clack of the heel of his shoes against the cold floor. The temperature seems to drop twenty degrees as shiver runs down my spine and the tension rises. Then everything is silent. My fingers curl tighter around my knife until I can feel the hard metal biting into the palm of my skin. I pry open my eyes.

I'm met with glowing golden irises surrounded by an inky black sclera, elegant ivory eyebrows angled down on alabaster skin, smooth pale lips pulled into a sinister smirk.

"_Found you_."

_Thanks for reading! _


End file.
